Rhythmless
by Vodid
Summary: "For the languages survival, speak it, for the languages survival, sing it, and so we are united in our aspirations, for the Māori language." Ailis lived a peaceful life in New Zealand, that is, until the Decepticons captured her. This is how it happened. Connected to my story, Sunny Side Up, but can be read alone. One-shot for The Silvernote.


**This one-shot relates to my fan fic, Sunny Side Up. It'd be great if you gave it a read!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, nor the majority of characters inside, including Ailis (Ay-lish). They belong to The Silvernote.**

* * *

The door slid and clicked back into place, I shuffled over to the edge of the deck where I lied both forearms on the wooden rails and leaned forward, gazing at the twilight sky of New Zealand, my home. I inhaled through my nose, taking in as much of the crisp, fresh air as I could before smoothly letting it out of my mouth in a cold exhale, watching the visible breath disappear into thin air over time.

My forehead pressed against my arms as I took another deep breath, calming myself. Turning around, I aimed for the sketch book and pencil lying on the table nearby. Picking up the objects I strode back over to the rail and balanced the sketch book on top. I grabbed my pencil, flipped to a new page and aimlessly doodled, humming a rhythmless tune.

I ignored the door sliding open and shut, keeping my focus on the sketchpad under my hand. I paid no heed to the soft _pidder-pads_ of bare feet walking across the newly stained wooden deck. My little brother's figure greeted my peripheral vision, his arms couldn't reach the wooden rails to mimic the position I'm currently in. He sighed and placed his chin on the rail, "Ailis, You missed the rugby game, the All Blacks won."

Giving a grunt in return, I loosened my grip on the pencil I held and drew a large and light streak across the paper, adding onto my drawings. I shoved his face away when he tried to peek over my arm to see the doodles, and said "go away" in our language, " _Haere atu_ , George."

"Okay, jeez," he backed away and sat down in one of the chairs that sat near the table, "Just thought you'd like to know."

I glanced to him and smiled, "Thanks for the consideration, but rugby is your thing, not mine."

He shook his head, frowning, "Sheesh, yesterday you were all about rugby."

" _Turituri_ ," I hushed him, saying "quiet" in Māori, "That's 'cause you dragged me in, and I didn't want to hurt my dear little brother's heart," I rolled my eyes and chuckled at the quite obvious sarcasm. I placed my attention back at my sketchbook and the darkening sky, the crickets beginning to chirp, "Aren't you supposed to be getting ready for bed?"

George groaned and picked himself off of the chair and walked inside the door, closing it shut behind him. I continued to hum my little tune, not a care in the world.

That is...

Until I heard something, a faint popping noise, followed by shouts. I frowned, _it can't be fireworks?_ Though there is some light coming from somewhere, my brick house blocking any view I could have. I closed my sketchbook, becoming concerned as the noises seemingly became closer.

The door got thrown open and my father stepped out, his usual gruff appearance was replaced by fear and concern. His shoulders seemed to have visibly slacken in relief at the sight of me, he called me over, " _Haere mai_ , _haere mai_... It's not safe outside," I hurriedly walked over, placing my sketchbook on the tables, I looked up at him in confusion as he tugged me inside, forgetting about my shoes that I had on.

"Dad, my shoes," I said, bending over and reaching for them. Shoes were not worn inside, as I was taught.

His calloused hand grabbed my wrist, stopping me in my tracks, telling me to listen, " _Whakarongo mai_ , there isn't time! Someone is blowing the town up, we need to get in the basement," he dragged me along, greeted by my shaken mother and George, who were waiting near the kitchen.

" _Haere mai_ , _haere mai_ ," my mother, Marie, called, ushering me over with the gesture of her hands. "Come here" was commonly said in Māori, which was " _haere mai_." She looked troubled and frantic.

I hesitated, "What's going on?"

George and I were pushed into the living room and in front of the couches. My parents sat us down with the frantic words " _E noho_."

My father grabbed my face in his hands, each hand on a cheek, forcing me to meet his identical green eyes, " _Titiro mai,_ your mother and I are going to go outside to see what's going on," he pursed his lips when the popping became explosion sounds and the shouts into screams. He closed his eyes and opened them, firmly saying, "Stay. Here."

The moment my parents left the room, George latched onto my arm almost immediately. His eyes were wide with freight, the explosions and screams becoming even louder, closer. Needing my own form of comfort, I slung an arm over my little brother's neck and around his front in an embrace, holding on as we waited out the commotion. I began rocking George back and forth, humming, much to his irritation. I chuckled, he becomes so annoyed whenever I begin singing or humming, I do it so often he's grown tired of it.

I pressed my cheek against the top of his head and let it rest there, listening to the commotion.

Then it stopped.

For a split second, there was no noise. No screaming or explosions. Just an eerie silence that became deafening to my ears in that span of time.

Then, in the blink of an eye, it was all gone. The house seemed to have visibly moved, slowly. It flew apart, brick by brick. Each piece of furniture flying and burning. My vision brightened, a large flash of light and flames erupting from the source, wherever that was. I watched it before my eyes as it slowly took place. I felt myself move along with the house, my brother flying from my grasp. Instinct taking the better of me, I shielded myself; curling into the tightest ball I could muster and letting myself get thrown to wherever I was going.

" _Ailis!_ " I heard a scream, it sounded like my brother.

I landed with a harsh thud what seemed like a long time later, which most likely was only a couple seconds I was air born.

Seconds, maybe minutes passed until I decided to slowly uncurl and lift my head, dazedly looking around and shifting strategically through the shards of glass and pieces of bricks that littered what remains of the house. Actually, come to think of it, I was blown off onto the deck, outside of my house.

I look over to what remained. There was no such thing in this case, it was all gone. Burnt or thrown around in the midst of the explosion. I hissed as I began to get up, apparently sustaining a few injuries that seemed to be numb until I moved. I coughed, hopefully George is oka-

 _George!_

My head whips around in all directions, my hands sprawled out under me to stabilize my frantic self. Where did George go? It takes me moments until I see the small figure lying not too far from my position, so I haul my ass over to him and touched his shoulder, "George, w _hakarongo mai!_ We need to run... George!"

No reply, no movement.

Praying to whoever was up there, I shake his shoulder vigorously, hoping for the opposite of what I was thinking. And I don't exactly know what I was thinking. I ignored the screams and continuous explosions around me, focusing on my brother and any response. I shook again, his limp body following the action, "George! _Titiro mai! Titiro mai!_ "

No reply, no movement.

I fiddled with the square glasses that miraculously stayed on my face. I sighed and sat back on my haunches, examining the bleeding body of my brother. I didn't know what to do. _Was I supposed to help? How would I anyway...? Should I freak out?_ Standing up, I looked around and stared at the damage done. It didn't even look like home. Everything was blown away and burnt. _Where's Mum and Dad?_

I grab my head in my hands and look down, inevitably looking at my brother. My voice broke as I muttered, "Oh God, what am I supposed to do?"

The explosions continued, with less complaint this time. I race from the ruined deck, ignoring the screaming pain from my legs and pretty much everywhere else on my body. Adrenaline flushed out the nerves and I barely felt the pain. I continued to race through the ruined street, averting my eyes from anything horrific. My lungs needed more air as I ran, _I need to get back in shape...Not my fault I hate sports._

Shaking my head, I urged my legs to go faster, and screamed at my messed up mind, _stop it! You are in a life or death situation, and all you think about is sports?_

I guess I'm trying to distract myself from the destruction happening. I ignored the blood that came from one of my neighbors, who was lying on the curb. I couldn't believe what just happened. I turned to my left, quickly taking shelter behind a slightly crumbled brick wall to catch my breath. I placed a hand on my pounding heart, which felt like it was going to jump right out of my chest any moment now. I tentatively touched my temple with my other hand, only to jerk it back when I felt a slight stinging. I looked at the blood that now covered my fingers.

You know how your mind thinks one thing, but your body does another thing? Yeah, that just happened to me as my body dragged myself out from cover and back onto the street, resuming the flee. Only to be stopped by something big and metal. It crushed the asphalt underneath and groaned with the heavy weight.

I hesitantly looked up, greeted by menacing red eyes that cut through mine. A robot. It growled and leaned down, a giant metal hand closing over my body and securely keeping me trapped with difficulty breathing. I couldn't move, so I lied there helplessly, letting whatever this damn thing was take me somewhere. It was best to let the evil robot do its thing, or else it might kill me. This is why I hate technology.

Somebody please help me.

* * *

I groggily awoke to silent, muffled cries.

Picking myself up off the metal ground, I leaned against the glass that surrounded me. I hung my head as dizziness took over my head and my thoughts grew fuzzy. I look down at myself, _loss of blood?_

Most likely, considering all the blood covering me.

I don't know what to think or do, I'm in a container, trapped. Suffocating. Well, actually, I think that's just me hyperventilating, my eyes wouldn't leave my bloody hands. I was freaking out. I was never one for blood. I kept my expression, fear, concern, pained, etc., blank as I look around. Two other containers. Two people in each.

In one, there was a familiar neighbor; a man in his mid twenties and a teenager, most likely younger than my sixteen-year-old self. The teen was crying, she looked scared and in pain.

The second one held two women, both middle aged. One was also whimpering, like the teen.

Pulling the hair tie off of my wrist, I flipped my hair into a messy bun. Once I was done. I look around my container and see a slumped burly man, middle aged, unconscious. He looked really familiar, even through all the burns and blood covering him. Then it clicked.

"Dad?" I crouched in front of him, placing both hands on his shoulders, "Dad! _Titiro mai._ "

His hand slowly moved to cover mine, and he coughed. Blood. I flinched as some of it landed on my black shirt, already stained with blood. His green eyes met my identical ones, he looked tired. Pale. I tightened my grip on his hand, trying to keep a strong face.

"Ailis..." He muttered, his grip tightening and then loosening, his dead lolled to the side as he fell unconscious.

We all cowered back in our containers as a metal being walked in, smiling menacingly at us.

"Which one of you will die first?" It said, _oh great, they speak._ It smiled as we shrank back even more. It turned and left, coming back another time.

* * *

I wrapped my arms around my knees, which were tucked into my chest, and sobbed. I cried. I whimpered and whined. I let the feelings break me as I couldn't help but stare at the body lying outside of my container, a white sheet covering the bloody, naked and pale body I once called my father.

I glared at the dried blood pool on the one side of my container, where my dad used to lie slumped and weak, continuously bleeding out. He was the first to die. And it scared everyone. We've tried our best to help each other, but all I can do is offer words that can barely be heard. So I resorted to singing, and it calmed some.

" _Ko te aroha anō he wai,  
He pupuake ana,_  
 _He awa he mapuna waina_  
 _I roto I te whatu manawa_ "

Letting the tears stream down my face like a waterfall, I kicked the container's glass, it shook under the impact. I let out a scream in frustration, _I hate robots!_ I couldn't hold it anymore, I've kept a blank face this entire time, trying to stay strong. But when you lose your family, it tends to be like walking on a thin sheet of glass. It easily cracks and breaks, pulling you into the bottled up emotions I've kept hidden for so long.

I assumed one of the women in the third container to die next, she kept vomiting and coughing blood, her wounds becoming infected. She looked like death.

And right I was, not long after, her motionless body was extracted from the container. Except this time, the giant robot walked out with her. And never returned with the corpse. Who was next? I'm not sure. I seemed to be in pretty good condition, I had minor burns, a few scratches and scrapes.

I felt my hands shaking, I was scared.

Trying to distract myself, I began humming a rhythmless tune, just like the night it all happened...

* * *

Days passed, I barely got any food, any nutrition... I was alone in here. Everyone else had... I looked to the metal slabs that held three bodies. My father still there. The other two; the teenager and middle aged woman, were gone. The three other metal slabs empty, which would have belonged to me and the two others. I was still scared as hell, I didn't want to be here, I tried my best to stay strong as always.

Currently, I was singing. I let the Māori words roll off my tongue.

 _"E ora ai te reo kōrerohia_  
 _E ora ai te reo waiatahia_  
 _E noho tahi ai tātou_  
 _I raro i ngā wawata mo te reo Māori e_ "

The door slid open and I stood as I saw two humans walking through the door. One had red eyes, it was one of _them_. The other had green eyes and white hair. She looked human. And a curious one. We met gazes, I looked at her with one thing filling me, other than fear.

Hope.

* * *

 **Māori Key:**

 **E noho - sit down**  
 **Whakarongo mai - listen to me**  
 **Haere mai - come here**  
 **Haere atu - go away**  
 **Turituri - quiet**  
 **Titiro mai - look at me**

 **Song: Maimoatia by Pūkana ā Whanau**  
 **Lyrics:**

 **For the languages survival, speak it ( _E ora ai te reo k_ _ōrerohia_ )**  
 **For the languages survival, sing it ( _E ora ai te reo waiatahia_ )**  
 **And so we are united in our aspirations ( _E noho tahi ai tātou_ )**  
 **For the Māori language ( _I raro i ngā wawata mo te reo Māori e_ )**

 **Thanks The Silvernote for the key that deemed useful in my writing! And beta-reading!**


End file.
